


Bittersweet

by sinofwriting



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced miscarriage, Insecure Richie Tozier, M/M, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier is a Mess, The Jade of the Orient (IT)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 08:41:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29347575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinofwriting/pseuds/sinofwriting
Summary: Richie can't hold back after another joke about someone getting tired of him.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Past Richie Tozier/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 50





	Bittersweet

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry my first work in this fandom is kind of dark, but the inspo and writing bug bit me and this happened.

“You did not get married.” Bill protests, with a laugh.   
“I did. Really, I did.” Richie insists, and everyone laughs but Eddie is eyeing him with an expression he can’t place.   
“Where’s your ring?” Beverly calls out, glancing at his hands.   
He winces, “I said I did get married not that I was currently married.” His chest tightens at the reminder of why his marriage didn’t work out and he wants to curse himself for giving Eddie shit.   
“Well, I’m not too surprised that out of all of us it’s Richie that got divorced. What happened? She finally got tired of you?” It’s supposed to be a joke, Richie knows that. But he’s heard it from some many different people, that he snaps.   
“We lost our baby, but yeah I guess that too.” And before anyone can say anything he’s standing up and storming out of the restaurant. 

As he gets closer to his car, he can hear two voices yelling after him but he ignores them, throwing himself into his car and quickly driving off. 

He curses at himself for snapping, but he doesn’t regret it. He was tired of the jokes about Jane leaving him, when they left each other. They had barely loved each other, only getting together and then married because it seemed like a good idea and they couldn’t keep up the appearance of being in love with each other after the baby. Not after going through five different rounds of artificial insemination for the sixth one to take and then not. 

“Siri, call Jane.”   
“Calling Jane.”   
The phone rings put in the car, his grip on the steering wheel loosens when it picks up. “Richie? Is everything okay?”   
“Yeah,” he clears his throat. “Just wanted to check in.”   
“You sure?”   
“No, I mean, yes but no. I met up with some old friends, and they had a hard time knowing I was married and then they made some joke about how you left me because you got tired of me and I snapped. Told them about…” he trails off, not able to finish the sentence.   
“We both got tired, Richie. Not of each other, but of what we were doing.”  
“I know.” He sighs as he sees the turn for where he’s supposed to be staying. “I’m going to go, I think I need to sit for awhile by myself.”  
“That’s one of the last things you ever wanna do, what else happened since we last talked?” Jane asks, unable to hide her concern. 

He pulls into a spot, turning off the car. “You know how I’ve got a big blank spot in my memories of growing up?” She makes a noise, telling him to continue. “I remember. Some really fucked up shit happened and I repressed it and some other things about myself. The friends that I snapped at are friends I grew up with and forgot about until now and seeing them made me realize why we never worked as more than friends.”   
She lets him sit in silence, patiently waits for him to finish venting. Knowing that he needs this, needs her to be somewhat of a soundboard. “I’m in love with someone and have been since I was twelve and I forgot about them, but seeing them again it all came back and I don’t know how I could’ve ever forgot about them.”   
“Trauma is a curious thing.” She tells him, voice soft. “I’m going to call you in the morning to check in. I don’t want you sitting by yourself for too long, okay?”   
He nods, before responding. “Yeah, that sounds good.” He pauses, “You're an amazing woman, Jane.”   
“Thank you, Richie.” And with that he hits the end call button. 

Richie doesn’t let himself sit in the car for any longer, quickly making his way to the room he booked in the only place available to stay that wasn’t doubling as a bed and breakfast. He sends a text to his publicist and manager, letting them know he’s alive and sorry for how quickly he left but he needs a few days and then he’ll talk. As he turns his phone to silent and sets it on the nightstand, letting himself fall into the made bed, the gravity of everything hits him. 

And before he can stop it, he’s crying, gasping for breath as he thinks about how Eddie was the thing, the person he'd been missing for all these years, the reason he always felt a little off, and was never able to fully give himself to anyone. His chest hurts as his thoughts turn to the son he almost had, he would almost be six, and he never even made it to full term. His thoughts start to swim and he turns onto his stomach, burying his face into his pillow as his sobs grow louder and harsher. 

He presses his face harder into the pillow, hoping the pressure and the tightness in his chest will make him pass out. With his face buried deep into the pillow and his sobs still filling every inch of the room, he doesn’t see or hear his hotel room door open or shut again, the person making sure to lock it. They hesitate by the door, but when Richie’s whole body shudders as a new wave of grief hits him, they kick off their shoes and climb into the bed with him. 

Richie doesn’t even notice the mattress dipping as someone joins him, only realizing when he’s pulled up and away from the pillow and into a warm, solid chest. 

“C’mon, Rich. Let it out.” The words are whispered into his hair, a hand running up and hand down his back as he continues to cry.   
The combination of the soothing hand on his back and the steady heartbeat in his ears, slowly gets him to calm down until he’s able to breath without starting to cry again. “I’m sorry.” He breathes, trying to pull out of the warm embrace.   
The hand on his back presses, keeping him there. “Don’t apologize. You needed this.”   
Richie huffs out a laugh, one of his hands coming up to swipe at his eyes. This part hadn’t fully come back to him until now. How he only trusted two people to see him at his worst, to see him breakdown and barely function. “I missed you, Eds.”   
“I missed you too.”


End file.
